


Kipping In

by Assassin_J



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: AC Kinkmeme, Bleeding Effect, Female Desmond Miles, Gen, MTF Genderswap, Modern Day, One-Shot, Prompt Fic, Shaun trying not to be too huge of a jerkwad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2712542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/pseuds/Assassin_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaun helps Desdemona out with her Bleeding Effect. Set during Brotherhood.</p><p>Written for <a href="http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=12169838#cmt12169838">this prompt</a>: "OP has a big brother, and he is very loving and protective. He's definitely saved my ass enough times.<br/>What OP is looking for is the moderns specifically. Shaun is overprotective over either Lucy, Rebecca, or Desmond. If you'll do Desmond, OP would really prefer him to be a genderswap. OP, however, is looking for big-brotherly-shaun, and not really protective-boyfriend-shaun. Any other pairings are fine, as long as he's not fawning over his surrogate little-sister. <strike><span class="small">OP admits she has a sweet tooth for Lucy/Desmond and Becca/Shaun hue hue hu</span></strike>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kipping In

Shaun was having a wonderful sleep despite the terrible quality of the sleeping bag, too thin and not well insulated against the frigid Italian night.

Rather, he **had been** having a wonderful sleep, until it was interrupted by someone smacking him in the arm.

"Wassat?" he mumbled drowsily, turning his head to try to locate the assailant: someone in the sleeping bag beside him on the stone floor; a blurry white form within another blur of green.

Shaun groped on the other side of his sleeping bag for his glasses. The white blur was eventually revealed as a familiar hooded jacket, the occupant of which was muttering incoherently.

 _Oh, goodie. She's having another fit._ He hoped Rebecca or Lucy would take care of the situation, but after waiting eight-nine-ten-eleven seconds, it was apparent that wasn't going to happen, the other two girls were still soundly asleep. _Guess it's up to me to snap her out of it then so I can get some peace and quiet._ He finally got up and crouched down next to her.

"Mona, calm down, go back to sleep," he said gently but firmly, grasping her shoulders. It was a reluctant grasp, though; up close like this, he could really tell that the hoodie hadn't been washed in some time. 

Golden brown eyes fluttered open, and wavered for a few seconds before settling on Shaun.

"Mona?"

Puzzlement. "Chi è Mona? Il tuo Mona Lisa?"

"Christ," he muttered under his breath, then addressed her again. "No, I'm not bloody talking about the bloody Mona Lisa!" He tried to keep his voice level, even as he slipped in the British expletives, hoping those would help her brain realize this was Shaun talking.

"Eh? Non capisco. Ti stai comportando in modo strano, Leonardo."

"I'm not da Vinci!" he hissed, trying not to wake the other two Assassins. "I'm Shaun Hastings! And you're not Ezio! You're not even a bloke! Your name's Mona, remember? Desdemona Miles, A.K.A. the infamous Subject Seventeen!" Shaun grasped her left arm and brought it up to eye level. "See this? This proves it, this proves you're Mona, the rebellious girl that ran away from your nice safe home on the Farm and promptly got a stupid tattoo to make it easier for Templars to bloody spot you, you git."

Mona seemed to have frozen as her eyes alighted on the elaborate pattern of swirls.

"What's stupid about it?" she mumbled at last. "I think it looks cool."

Shaun rolled his eyes. "'Cool', god, you are such a teenager. Go back to sleep." He turned away, intending to return to his sleeping bag, but his not-really-friend-per-se was saying something grumpily.

"So you woke me up just to tell me my tattoo's stupid?"

"You're the one that woke me!"

This incited a brief intake of breath and a slightly troubled expression. "I what?"

"Yeah, you were thrashing about and making all sorts of noise. Talking in Italian, calling me Leonardo.... You honestly don't remember?"

"I... sorry." Desdemona looked down at her twiddling fingers. "How long?"

"Well, I couldn't begin to guess how long it was going on beforehand, but from the time you cuffed me in the arm to the time you switched back to English... forty to fifty-five seconds, perhaps."

Her face was motionless save for an almost imperceptible twitch in the scarred lip. There was a short silence that seemed incredibly long. Though unverbalized by Shaun and Desdemona both, the ominous fact nevertheless hung smotheringly in the atmosphere: These episodes were getting longer every time they occurred.

Shaun spoke again after almost a full minute. "You've no need to be sorry about it, Mona."

She didn't reply.

"Erm... if there's anything I can do to help?" he offered awkwardly, unable to properly finish the sentence fragment.

Still no response.

"Oi, say something, Mona," Shaun wheedled. "If only so I know you're still here with me, and not back in Italy again."

Desdemona lifted her head at last and smirked. "Dude, we  **are** in Italy."

"Oh. Right." He adjusted his glasses, though they didn't need it; this was a sort of nervous tic he wasn't aware he had.

She looked at her watch. "Hm. No point going back to sleep now, we'll just have to wake up in an hour anyway."

"No," Shaun said quickly, "Go to sleep. You can sleep in today."

She gave him a look of incredulity. "Are you the same Shaun that always calls me a shiftless layabout? Always complains that I get to spend all day lounging in the Animus while you're working your ass off?"

"Go to sleep, Mona. You look terrible."

This earned him a scowl. "I do not!"

Shaun scowled back. "Don't be an idiot, you obviously need some rest. Unless you  **want**  to end up a complete mental case?" His expression gradually softened as he continued talking. "I know you were out late climbing all over the villa again, not sure  **why** you like doing that so much, but at any rate you weren't in bed when I turned in at eleven, so you got, at most, half a night of sleep." He patted her shoulder once more and repeated the suggestion-request-demand. "Go to sleep, Mona. I'll finagle Lucy into letting you have an easier Animus session today. A shorter one, maybe some of Ezio's more lighthearted exploits, rather than the usual running around killing everything in sight."

She lay back down at last, but warily, still dubious. Shaun loaded up some documents on his computer and got to work, keeping her in his peripheral vision.

 _Blimey, I'm babysitting a grown woman to make sure she takes her nap._ It was times like this when he really missed his coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> Damn but it's tricky writing Shaun as kindly and protective while still retaining his contrarian loner sassiness.
> 
> Oh and yeah technically the painting wasn't called the Mona Lisa in Ezio's time, it was called La Gioconda, but I can rarely resist such sweet wordplay.... and seriously it's an alternate universe where William Miles had a daughter instead of a son, so maybe a few other things are different too.
> 
> Working title was "Desdemona" and then "Yet-Untitled Prompt Fill Where Shaun Acts Kind Of Nice To Fem!Desmond" and it still may change later if I think of a better one.
> 
> As I was putting the finishing touches on this, I remembered this relevant quote from someone on the meme: ["The Bleeding Effect. So agonizing for Desmond, so convenient for the fanfic writer."](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=11293550#cmt11293550)
> 
> And yes, "not sure **why** " is a Tobuscus reference.


End file.
